A Bad Hair Day for the Accidental Genie
(Bicycle artist unknown)
A few days after finding my genie in the scribbles on this wall (see Three Wishes), I happened to walk past again.
But what has happened to my genie’s hair?
I think one of these three might know:
Syncopated Eyeball 
Well, it is obvious that ,,, oh! Just see that it is not yet my turn. Sorry. … Jams?!
It’s clear to me that the Don has given up on Rocinante and has stolen a bicycle. The problem is that Sergeant Pluck from the Third Policeman is worried that Don’s mollycules will get mixed up with the Don’s thus creating a hybrid that has tyres and goes loopy at the typos in my posts. This is why the Don, who has also stolen Seanso’s sombrero, has pedalled so hard that he has found himself in Bondi and not Buckie!
Aha!
The esteemed Jams O’Donnell Esq. sounds as if he had gotten within spitting distance of the essential inherent interior essence which is hidden in the root of the kernel of everything.
The Man of Corkadoragha does not sound as if. Written words do not sound.
They do in my head.
Squire Shaunso, far were you from being earnest, I suppose. Never would our Don steal a fly from a wall. He might have commandeered the bicycle, though, as he did with my sombrero.
The hybrid is one of the Don and the bicycle of course!
On second thoughts I am sure that the Don had Bondi in mind as the sombrero will keep the sun of his very Scottish skin. The poor Don has been known to get sunburn if he tarries too long under a 100 watt bulb
If he keeps going, though, I fear his head will be suffering from more than just sunburn/sunstroke.
He is charging towards the abyss!
Hello guys! I thought that might get you going.
Please continue at your leisure should you so desire.
Occupy Omnium at work, MacCruiskeen, hm?
Anyway, personally I am convinced that meanwhile Don QuiScottie is slouching on Bondi Beach, dreaming of white flakes cooling his hot temper.
Um, he could just be getting wet. Although it is summertime the rain has been pouring down. I must say that going for a walk in the rain in Sydney is a much more pleasant experience than doing the same in London – you don’t get frozen to the core.
There’s a storm coming, so I hope he left his lance at home lest he be struck by lightning!
Don QuiScottie tells me he is more concerned by the pesky snowflakes that seem to fall across your masthead when he lets his noble cursor flick across it. He says he may have to visit this place more often to see what other abominations do lurk in need of his attention, although he is somewhat busy with more local dangers right now. Oh and they are down here too… Snowflakes all over a blog? This will be of concern to his noble mind.
Ah, welcome, Andrew. Pesky snowflakes? But they’re lovely. Not even cold. Not even wet.
Don QuiScottie is also welcome, assuming, that is, that he has not already plummeted to his death or severe manglement.
Ah… “Severe Manglement” my lady, is but a common part of a hard day’s work for this noble knight. But my foes do suffer manglement much more, be assured.
Gasp! Not even severe manglement stands in your way! So brave!
And that chap on the bicycle… he doth indeed look like me, and Rocinante’s joints have in fact been squealing strangely… I do suspect my steed may now be 29% bicycle, and I, who hath been strangely fond of eating oats of late, may be at least 33% steed. It is a mixed up world at the level of this mad molecularity, but the good Andrew teaches chemistry… or is it alchemy? Whatever… I’m sure he’ll help me sort it all out. Is there nothing my knightly (and nightly) nobility cannot fix?
Well, if you do find something you cannot fix, I’ve heard of a builder called Bob…
I think that dude on the bike is in trouble, the genie is given him side eye. 🙂
I think you’re right. Katie. Either he’s going to pedal right over the edge or the genie is going to swat him like a fly!
Like I said, and I’ll say it again because I like my new coined word, severe manglement!
I would think a bicycle would be even more difficult to get out of hair than bubble gum is!
🙂
Great capture – I like the bicyclist on the genie’s head with the bump on the left counter balancing it all.
The man on the bicycle has now been obliterated in the customary way in that lane: he has been blotted out with a scribbly paint brush.